


Many Happy Returns

by EldritchTribble



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Closets, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Surprise Party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 23:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11391090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchTribble/pseuds/EldritchTribble
Summary: Odo and Jadzia plan a birthday party for Quark. As usual, Jadzia knows a lot more than she lets on. Set sometime after 3x25: Facets.





	Many Happy Returns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cohobbitation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cohobbitation/gifts).



> Written for my dear friend @cohobbitation. Happy birthday love - hope you enjoy this. <3

The tense cast of Jadzia’s features informed Odo of two things: that he would not like what she was about to tell him, and that he would do better to listen carefully regardless.

“You do know what day it is today, right?” she pressed. The question came out as three syllables. As if to soften her delivery, Jadzia added what she must have thought was an easygoing smile. Odo knew an ulterior motive when he saw one, though, and a truly insidious one was now staring him in the face expecting him to respond.

“Monday,” obliged Odo, eyeing his colleague with unease. Jadzia shot him a four-phaser-beam glare as she elbowed past him into his quarters.

“You are _sooo_ lucky I stopped by,” she replied, plopping herself onto the nearest driftwood sculpture. Odo made a hasty motion to discourage her from sitting there, but thought better of it halfway through. As per usual, he would move it back to its proper place once she left.

First Lwaxana, then Quark, then Jadzia…all this dropping by just to say hello – it was anarchy! Odo grumbled in wordless resignation and sat opposite his “guest”.

“Since I’m apparently missing a critical piece of information related to today’s date, would you care to inform me of what that might be?”

Dax brightened, softening her spine and interlacing her fingers around a crossed knee. “I thought that _you_ of all people would know! It’s Quark’s birthday today!”

Odo had not been expecting that. He fidgeted uncomfortably in the wake of this information.

“Of course I knew that; it’s in his file,” he blustered, not meeting Jadzia’s gaze. “Quark never told me himself, that’s all – not to mention that in all the years I’ve worked on the station, he’s never held a celebration at the bar or anything. I assumed it wasn’t important to him.” It was a lame excuse, he knew, but it bore the dubious honor of being the only one at his disposal. This endless parade of distractions and _visitors_ must be causing him to slip, he reflected.

“Which is exactly why we’re going to throw him a surprise party,” explained Jadzia, pleased that Odo seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she was.

“’We’?” Odo exclaimed with a start. “I…don’t know the first thing about organizing a party.” Of course, this was not strictly true: he knew one thing about parties, and that was how to be the main attraction against his will. There was a reason he spent so much time and energy avoiding them, after all.

Picking up on Odo’s trepidation, Jadzia leaned forward and patted his hand. “Don’t worry. You wouldn’t need to help set up or even spend time with the guests if you don’t want to.” A wry grin crept across her lips. “I have something more… _specialized_ in mind for your contribution,” she confided.

Odo’s first instinct was to assume the worst – but then again, Dax had specified that this plan would not include needless socializing. He let out a resigned sigh.

“ _Purely_ for the sake of argument, suppose I were to agree - what would that entail?”

“Oh, I’ve got all kinds of fun things lined up,” replied Dax cheerfully. “Tongo, darts, Aldebaran whiskey I’ve been stockpiling – oh, don’t look at me like that – but what this party still needs is some way to give that little toad…”

“…the scare of his life,” breathed Odo. _This_ was a plan he could get behind.

“Curzon would be so proud of you,” Jadzia declared impishly. “I trust, with all the ‘research’ you have under your belt, you have a sense of what would suffice?” There was an inelegant insinuation in there somewhere, but Odo did not much care to address it.

“I’ll think of something,” he assured her.

“That’s all I’m asking.”

The two colleagues stood up and headed toward the exit in one smooth, synchronous motion.

“Thank you, Dax,” said Odo as he activated the door for her. “You have saved me no small measure of embarrassment.”

“What can I say?” she grinned. “I’m a fan of happy endings.”

 

***

With what little familiarity Odo had with parties, he could still tell that Jadzia knew what she was doing. His first task was to provide a security override for Quark’s quarters, allowing a large contingent of well-wishers inside to properly decorate the surroundings. Bashir and O’Brien were the first in the door, hefting a huge dartboard between them. Morn, bedecked in a garish new shirt, followed close behind. Rom carried a case of root beer in one hand and a strange tiered contraption in the other; Jadzia hurried immediately over to him and helped him set it up. Odo would soon learn that it was a Romulan ale fountain; occupied as he was with hanging streamers, he made a mental note to write the both of them up for it later. Last but not least, Leeta and Aluura, both wearing parkas over their uniforms, bustled in and began setting up various trays of hors d’œuvres. Leeta had evidently made sure that some options were less entomological than others. Transfixed, Rom immediately ceased his work on the ale fountain. Jadzia rolled her eyes at him but picked up the slack without complaining.

Upon the completion of their respective tasks, Odo approached Jadzia with the intent of finalizing the evening’s master plan. She regarded him rather more craftily than he would have liked.

“I’m going to need you to turn into a tasteful flower arrangement for a while,” she informed Odo, tapping her chin thoughtfully with an index finger.

“I thought we agreed that I would pose as a side table,” objected the constable.

“Quark would notice something that out of place, even with all the decorations. On the other hand, if I _give_ you to him, he won’t be suspicious – and you’ll have the perfect opportunity to do your thing.”

Odo folded his arms and eyed her appraisingly. “You forgot to get Quark a gift, didn’t you.”

“…that too,” Dax admitted.

“Just as well,” replied Odo, “he’d feel obliged to pay you back with interest if you were to give him something. That’s one of the reasons I never give him gifts.”

“I think he’d argue that you’re a gift in and of yourself. One he can’t take back,” she laughed.

“Hmm,” rumbled Odo, chortling along with Dax despite himself. “You’re probably right.”

A telltale _swoosh_ of turbolift doors resounded from down the hall. Jadzia immediately went on full alert.

“To your positions, everyone!” she hissed, darting behind the couch. “Computer, lights. Odo, _tasteful flower arrangement!_ Now!”

Odo harrumphed and obliged her, becoming a respectable amalgam of flowers from across the quadrant tied with a beige ribbon. All waited with bated breath in the sudden gloom.

The door to Quark’s quarters slid open, revealing a familiar figure in sharp silhouette. He was humming a tuneless, joyless nothing to himself.

“Computer, lights to fifty percent,” Quark commanded absently, once he had finished the uninspiring number. He walked over to the replicator and ordered a snail juice, only to choke noisily on it upon turning around. Streamers covered every available surface, a huge dartboard lurked in the far corner, and _was that a Romulan ale fountain?_ He had gone through the bureaucratic wringer to try and get one for the bar, and had still not been successful in his attempt.

With terrifying synchronized suddenness, Leeta and Aluura leapt out from behind a screen, while Jadzia, Rom, Julian and Miles emerged from their hiding place behind the couch.

“SURPRISE!” they all shouted in unison, while Morn ambled ponderously out from the closet.

Quark seemed not to know what to make of this. He stood stupefied in the middle of the living room, snail juice all but forgotten, staring in utter astonishment at the assembled host. A single tear made its desultory way down his cheek.

Beaming, Jadzia approached Quark and swept him into a fond embrace that lifted him a full foot from the floor. Upon releasing him, she solemnly picked up bouquet-Odo and presented him to Quark.

“I know how you feel about gifts, so I made sure not to get you anything too extravagant. Many happy returns, Quark.”

Still entranced, Quark set down his glass and gathered the bouquet in both hands.

“Thanks, Jadzia…um…and everyone else, too…this was unexpected. Unexpected and nice.”

He gazed down at the bouquet, noticing the beige ribbon for the first time. It figured – the first time anyone did anything nice for him on his birthday, Odo was nowhere to be found.

As if on cue, the bouquet began morphing back into a form more familiar to Quark. Odo bore little of the cheerfulness of his erstwhile disguise: glowering down at Quark, he produced a set of manacles from the ether and proceeded to clamp them around the bartender’s wrists.

“Hey!” exclaimed Quark, equal parts indignant, aroused and relieved.

“You are hereby under arrest for being a magnificent scoundrel,” Odo declared in his most officious tone. “How do you plead?”

“Oh really? When is the hearing?” Quark replied, craning his neck around to fix Jadzia with a questioning stare. Jadzia merely shrugged.

“Now. Come on; move it along.”

Odo proceeded to march Quark out of his quarters, leaving the rest of the partygoers to their own devices. They would be back at some point.

“Don’t I have a right to legal counsel? For shame, Odo,” chided Quark. He had begun to understand what Odo was up to, though he would not give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“Do you deny the charges?” inquired Odo in a singsong tone, gently shoving Quark into the nearest broom closet and shutting the door behind them.

“What I _don’t_ deny is that the atmosphere’s awfully _charged_ in here,” Quark quipped, rattling his manacles meaningfully.

“I would thank you not to try my patience,” countered Odo, clutching onto the last vestiges of his carefully constructed persona. He shifted the manacles away, replacing them with hands that gripped Quark’s wrists all the tighter.

“Why?” inquired Quark craftily. “If your patience is also on trial, what’s it being charged with?”

“Tolerating you.”

“Well, do _you_ deny the charges?”

“I’m about to,” Odo grinned as he crowded Quark into a corner.

“Fine.”

They returned to the party. Eventually.


End file.
